"Good morning, sir"
He said as I fixed a rainguard
Back unto my car
I froze in place
And he stood in his

I could feel grief in the air
Accompanying this old man
And I stared

"I am a garbage truck driver
My wife died, you see
She used to sweep the street
Around here
Maybe you noticed her
Once or twice"

He shook a crumpled sheet of paper
Filled with bills
Twenties, fifties, and hundreds
And he spoke again

"It's been two weeks
I don't have the money
To bury her"

He said it so casually
His voice was like
A broken record
To him
Probably

But somehow there was still pain

I handed him some money
He bowed
Thanked me
Walked away

And I stood there
Frozen